355 500 произведений, 25 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » Лиз Реинхардт » Double Clutch » Текст книги (страница 2)
Double Clutch
  • Текст добавлен: 15 октября 2016, 04:39

Текст книги "Double Clutch"


Автор книги: Лиз Реинхардт



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“Tomorrow!” Sanotoni bellowed. “We finish tomorrow!”

Everyone groaned, and I saw Lynn march up to the front of the room to talk with lots of hissing and hand waving as Sanotoni listened with half an ear, then finally barked, “So go with the Independents, but it’s up to you to catch up.”

“Looks like the bitch ditched us.” Saxon picked up my book and handed it to me. “Just me and you, Blixen.”

I had never been on a date, and it’s not like I considered AP Government class the definition of one, but something like anticipation rippled through me, exactly the way I imagined it would if I was going on a date.

“Yeah, okay. Tomorrow. Um, try to not intentionally suck something useless into your brain.”

He stopped in his tracks and looked at me from head to toe, so I looked right back at him. He had on a tightish black t-shirt, dark wash jeans with just a tiny bit of whiskering that actually looked genuinely worn out that way, and some kind of color block Nike’s that no one would have been wearing last year. He didn’t carry a backpack. He had one notebook rolled up and one pen stuck in it.

“Like what?” His voice clicked me out of my eyeball assault.

“Like the ingredient list off of a cereal box. Or the instructions on a conditioner bottle.” I bumped my shoulder against his and we grinned like two grinning fools. Was this flirting? Was I, Brenna Blixen, flirting?

I stressed over our good-bye, but managed to hijack a few more seconds when Saxon walked backwards the same direction I was headed.

“Going this way, Blix?” He crooked his finger at me and smiled at my eye-roll.

“Yep. Crafts.” I knew I should walk away from that crooked finger, but I wanted one more look at the gold flecks in his eyes.

“Oh, good. I have to meet someone over there anyway. I’ll walk you.” He waved to a few guys down the hall and when his arm dropped, he skimmed his hand over my hip. A thousand electric jolts ran straight up my side and left my skin tingling.

“So you really think I’ll never need to know every single chemical in my Cocoa Puffs?” His hand closed over my elbow as he steered me around a herd of chattering girls, and I leaned closer to drag the moment out as long as possible.

“Is that what you eat?” I scrunched my nose in disgust. “That’s a nasty breakfast.”

“What do you have? Half a grapefruit? Isn’t that the official girl breakfast?”

“Not this girl.” I jabbed a thumb in my chest. “I have a bowl of oatmeal.”

His dark eyes gleamed with interest. “What are you, a pioneer?”

“What are you? A third grader? Cocoa Puffs,” I sneered.

He was still laughing when we turned the corner to the art rooms. “Man, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while, Blix. You’re a good sort, for a trailblazer.”

“Yeah, okay, and I hope you enjoy Spongebob with your cereal tomorrow.” I rolled my eyes.

I could feel it the minute his attention dropped from me. It was like he was a dog that had caught the scent of something it wanted, and that was all it could focus on. I looked in the direction his eyes were pointed.

“Kelsie,” he said in a gravelly voice.

I don’t care what my mom said, that butt of hers attracted guys like a magnet. She smiled warmly and gave him a careless hug, her bracelets clicking together softly. “Oh, hey Saxon,” she said, then turned to me. “Brenna! I’m so excited we have crafts together. I hope we start with clay.”

“You know each other?” Saxon’s eyebrows knit together in the center of his forehead.

I looked at his face, and felt infinitesimal cracks begin to pulverize my heart. As soon as I had that thought I shook my head. My heart! What was I thinking? I didn’t love this guy! More like my ego was getting a beating. Because somehow I knew that he was concerned that I knew Kelsie because he liked to keep girls he flirted with separated. I read it clear as day in his expression.

“Brenna and I went through school together.” Kelsie swung an arm around my waist and squeezed, her rings biting into my side before she let go. “Then she moved to Sweden for a year and now she’s back.”

“Denmark,” I corrected, pasting a smile on my face. “I went to Denmark.”

Saxon looked at me with those almost-black eyes. I was so close I could see every gold fleck, but I took two very deliberate steps back.

“You went to Denmark?” he repeated a little dumbly.

“Yes. Denmark.”

“Class is going to start.” Kelsie breezed by, pulling me by the hand. “Bye Saxon. See you later.”

“Oh, I was going to see if tonight at seven was cool?” His eyes darted to me for a split second and were back on Kelsie so fast I wondered if I had imagined it all.

“That sounds great. Pick me up, okay?” Kelsie yanked me through the door, away from Saxon and into her embrace. She giggled and stamped her feet. “He’s so hot, isn’t he?” she gushed, leaning her head on me.

And I liked her head leaning on me, but I felt a need to tell myself at least that Saxon wasn’t all that. “He’s alright. I think he has a good idea of how hot girls think he is.”

“Yeah.” She giggled and waved her hand around. “But I like him anyway. Ooh, they have glass, Brenna! I can’t wait.”

I followed Kelsie to a display of glass crafts, but I couldn’t really pay much attention to them. Kelsie and Saxon were going out tonight. That was fine. I had known him for almost exactly forty-five minutes. It wasn’t real, what I felt. It was just a crush, an infatuation. Something I could very easily put out of my mind.

I half listened to the lecture on crafts. We would be doing some pottery, working with copper, glass, and macramé. I suppressed a groan. Maybe this had been a mistake. I just had a hard time picturing myself doing any kind of weaving. Most of the class I spent looking over at Kelsie. She was very pretty. And she was artistic. I heard her tell another girl about her beaded necklace and earrings, that she had made them herself. They were a complicated design and it was obvious you needed a good dose of pure talent to make them.

So I knew this wasn’t going to be one of those things where I liked a guy and then this awful girl liked him, and I got the guy in the end because I was so wholesome and right and good. This was real life.

And in real life Kelsie was awesome and gorgeous, and Saxon would be lucky to have her and they would be great together. In real life, I had to get a serious grip.

When the bell rang, I headed to the only thing on my schedule I was truly nervous about.

I had to take gym class.

New Jersey demanded physical education every single year. A total lack of coordination, poor reflexes, and difficulty understanding the rules of most games in general all triangulated to make me one of the suckiest gym students in middle school, and I was pretty sure all my hours on a bike hadn’t managed to blot the rest of my deficiencies out.

Besides my natural suckiness, I registered late. Since everyone picked their gym units at the end of the previous year, I got stuck with cross country.

Coach Dunn was a tan, muscled woman with a long, shiny, blonde ponytail and a killer stare. There was a huge track. She gave each of us a numbered placard to pin to our gym shirts. Each time we went around the track, she made a mark by our number. She was fairly quiet, as gym teachers go. No calls of encouragement, no hoots, no fist pumping or clapping. I was glad about that. I thought cross country might go fairly well when I looked to my right and saw a soccer game going on.

One of the guys was awesome, kicking the ball with incredible speed and agility. He was quick and arrogant, doing a back flip when he made a goal. He looked over at the track and even across that distance, we made eye contact, and I nearly tripped over my feet.

Saxon.

He gave me a wave, acknowledging that he had seen me. I waved back and my heart pattered in my chest. I ran faster, focusing on the rhythm of my breathing and the burn of my muscles. The cool air stung my lungs, and I gulped it down and ran harder. I ran to forget the way Saxon’s eyes looked, black with gold flecks, and his incredible laugh that twined right around my gut and pulled me in.

I wondered if Kelsie would make him laugh like that, and right away I felt like a traitor. Kelsie was funny and smart, and if Saxon didn’t laugh at her, he was the idiot. I gritted my teeth and ran harder, and I didn’t look back at the field, no matter how much yelling and cheering I heard. I didn’t want to think about him, I didn’t want to meet eyes again. My entire body focused on running; my arms pumped, my feet moved in time, my breath tore down my scratchy throat and filled my lungs while I ran away from all the confusion I had already managed to muck in on my first day of school.

“Number twelve!” Coach Dunn bellowed. “Number twelve!”

I looked around and realized the track was empty. I was the last one on.

“Sorry, coach!” I jogged to her and gasped. “I was in a zone or something.”

“Twelve, you did fourteen laps in one period,” Coach Dunn said, her arms crossed. I couldn’t tell if she wanted to congratulate me or spit on my shoes. “The best cross country student I’ve ever seen only did thirteen. What do you think of that?”

“Good?” I said, unsure what to say.

“I’ll say. I want you to consider trying out for cross country. I want you on the team.” She glowered at me when she said it, but I felt like it was probably as friendly a look as she gave.

“I’ll consider it.”

She nodded, and I turned to go change and gather in the hall with the other students jostling for a spot. We all collected outside the gym until the bell rang to release us.

I felt him before I even had to look. The smell of his aftershave slid into my nostrils and made my head spin.

“I heard you ran like Forrest Gump.” The smile came out in his voice.

“Fourteen laps.” I crossed my arms and glowered. “What do you think of that?”

“Holy crap.” Saxon laughed. “You look just like old Dunn. That’s damn good.” He punched my arm softly, a kind of manly congratulations. “So, you gonna do cross country or what?”

“I don’t know. I’m not here in the afternoon.” I opened and closed the zipper on my backpack frantically, waiting for the scarlet ‘T’ to appear on my forehead.

“Do you have one of those get-out-after-lunch schedules? You’re not even a junior yet.” He reached out and yanked the zipper shut, stopping the whine of the teeth opening and closing.

“No. I do Share Time.” The way everyone balked when I announced it made me dread this afternoon. What had I gotten myself into?

Even Saxon, resident Frankford High bad boy, looked just the tiniest bit shocked. “Share Time? You wanna give me a haircut?”

“Not cosmetology. Believe it or not, that isn’t the only trade a poor female can wrap her mind around.”

“What then?” He closed the space between us, boxing me near the wall. I felt the whole world melt into just the two of us.

“Graphic design.” I dropped my voice like we were in a church.

“Why? You missed a year. They won’t let you finish.” He moved a piece of my hair back off of my shoulder and to my back, and my eyes followed his hand.

“There are two summer workshops I’ll take.” The words were a surprise to my ears. I was relieved I had said anything at all, since I suddenly couldn’t trust my voice to do my talking.

“You’re smart.” His hand fell and grabbed mine lazily. “I can tell.”

“One government class and you have me figured out?” I wondered if he could see my heart pounding through my shirt.

“Nope. It wasn’t the government. It was you. You figuring me out.” His black eyes searched my face, the gold flecks like tiny fires. “I see something, I never forget it. You see something, and you cut right through it, don’t you Blix? Right through the crap to what’s really in there?”

I tried to swallow, but my throat was very, very dry. “I didn’t figure you out, Saxon. There’s a lot more to you. And to me.” His hand felt so good holding mine. It was warm, smooth, long-fingered. I liked the way his skin and mine contrasted. I was pale as a ghost, but that looked shocking and right against his darker complexion. We complemented one another. I knew deep in me that we were somehow linked.

My mind instantly conjured an image of Kelsie. I pulled my hand out of his grasp.

“What else is there about you?” He looked down at our hands, now pulled apart.

“I’m a good friend,” I said firmly. “Like to Kelsie. I really like her. She’s very pretty and sweet, isn’t she?”

I said the magic words that smashed our bubble. Saxon backed away from me and his eyes were guarded again, mocking me. “Kelsie’s the best,” he agreed, his voice edged with sexy innuendo.

The bell rang. “Well, I have to go to lunch,” I said.

“I’m headed there.” He looked left, then right. “Should I walk with someone else?”

He was challenging me, trying to see if I would react to him. “Why would you walk with someone else when you have my awesomeness right here?” I asked, my voice sunny and light. “Here’s something else about me: I’m always hungry. I’m going to eat you under the table.”

“You’re on.” He flashed me a joking smile, not the soul-searching smile he’d given me earlier. I told myself I preferred this one, and I hoped I was right.

He led me to the cafeteria, into the annex reserved for upperclassmen to a table in the corner. We sat with a large group of Saxon’s friends who accepted me immediately. I liked listening to them argue and tease each other. Saxon was pretty quiet, but at the end of lunch he did look at my empty tray and torn wrappers and say, “I have to admit, I’m pretty impressed by how much you ate.”

“I’ve always been a big eater,” I shrugged, twisting a sandwich wrapper in my hands.

“That’s why you can run like Gump.” He tossed his soda can on my tray. “Maybe I’ll switch to oatmeal like you, grandma.”

I got up and threw the tray out and he followed me into the hall. “I know the other kids in PreK don’t eat it, but it might work for you.” We were about to pass the doors to the outside. I put my jacket on and zippered it, then pointed to the door. “That’s me.”

Saxon pushed the door open and walked out with me. He watched me undo my bike lock and put on my helmet. I would never not wear it, but I didn’t necessarily want Saxon to watch me put it on.

“It’s cold.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and brought his arms close to his body. The wind bit and made his eyes tear. “Tech is about three miles down the road.”

“It’s chilly,” I countered. “And Tech is two and a half miles.”

“You’re going to freeze to death in the winter.” He stooped down to pick up a mitten I dropped and handed it to me.

I pulled the mitten on. “We’re just spoiled here. Danish people bike everywhere in all kinds of weather. I can do it.”

“They don’t have this kind of terrain, and they don’t get loads of snow, Blix.” I thought this weird abbreviation nickname was kind of endearing. “When it gets bad, I’ll come by your place to pick you up.”

My heart thrilled in my chest. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ it screamed. “No way,” I said. “I’ll take the bus. Plus that you don’t know where I live.”

“No.” The wolf’s smile was back. “You won’t. And I’ll find you.” He reached out and took the end of my hair in his fingers. “Be safe.” He let go reluctantly, my hair fell back over my shoulder, and he turned without another word and went back into the school.

I rode slowly down the stairs, bumping along each step until I came to the road, then I pedaled hard. I was at the school in a few minutes, and I decided to let myself believe that my thumping heart really had something to do with my ride instead of Saxon. I found an old, rusty bike rack and chained my bike. The tech building was low and squat with no plants around the back entrance, though I was sure there were some by the main entrance. The hallways were low and dark, and all of the lights seemed to flicker.

I found a map on the wall and followed it to the front office. A nice older lady smiled at me. “Hello dear. What can I do for you?”

It was really weird to be doing this twice in one day, but it was what I decided I wanted. “Hello.” I made my smile wide and appreciative. “My name is Brenna Blixen. I’m new at this school.”

“Well, I’m Mrs. Olsen.” She winked. “My, you’re a pretty one. Cosmetology?”

“No.” I forced the smile to stay exactly where it was. “I’m in graphic design.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Olsen gave me another wink. “Artsy. Gotcha.” She handed me a thick packet. “Here’s your information and class list. Mr. Giles is down the hall and to your right. He’s your teacher for your first section.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Olsen.” I backed out of the room. I was a little more nervous than I had been at Frankford. Maybe because Meg had been there to greet me, and here there was no one at all.

I made my way down the hall and to the right, and I checked every sign until I saw Mr. Giles’s room. The other students were sitting at tables, already quietly drawing.

Mr. Giles waved me in with a kind smile and explained what was going on.“We’re talking about perspective. I had this group last year, so they know the drill, but I’ll have you start where they are and we’ll catch you up as needed.” He had a big beard and round cheeks, like a garden gnome. “And your name is…?”

“Brenna Blixen.”

“Brenna Blixen.” He scanned his list. “You can sit with…Jake Kelly. He’s one of my best, and he’s in an advanced section, so he’s done this all before. If you have any questions, I’m sure he can help you out, or just give a holler in my direction.” He pointed to a table in the back.

I grabbed paper and a pencil from the pile Mr. Giles showed me and went to the back table. There was a boy there. He smiled sweetly, and I felt my heart thump in a wild staccato.

What kind of shameless hussy was I? I had just calmed my heart after riding away from Saxon, and here this boy gave me one smile, and I fell to pieces?

“Hey. I’m Jake.” His voice was so nice, deep but gentle. He held out his hand and I grabbed it. It was rough to my touch, like I could feel the work he did through all his calluses. “You’re Brenna?”

I shook and smiled back at him. “Yep. Brenna Blixen.”

“Nice to meet you, Brenna.” He had light brown hair and nice gray eyes, so shiny they were almost silver. He was tall and wiry, and I could see the definition of his muscles. He pointed to a group of wooden shapes in the center of the table. “Just doing some perspective drawing. You good?” he checked.

His gaze roamed up and down my body. It wasn’t a nasty thing; it was just like Jake was taking stock of me, getting a good look so he could reference for later.

“Yeah, thanks. Sorry I ruined your peace and quiet.”

He smiled down at his paper. One of his front teeth had a tiny chip and his left eyetooth was a little crooked. He had a great, warm, slow smile. “No need to apologize. You’re a lot nicer to look at than these wooden blocks.” His eyes came up for just one second. They looked just like liquid silver.

“Yeah,” I shot back breezily. “I get that all the time. If I had a nickel for every time someone told me I was prettier than a hunk of wood, I‘d be a rich, rich woman.”

His laugh was an easy sound that welled from deep in his throat, and shook his head. “Pretty and funny. I’m in big trouble. I better watch out, or I’ll be completely in love before the day is out.”

“Line up, then,” I joked, but my voice was a little rushed this time because I felt like all the blood was rushing from my head. “I get that a lot, too.”

I had to remind myself to breathe over and over. It was like Jake was sucking the oxygen out of the room.

“Yeah, but you never got it from anyone as persistent as me.” He pointed at me with his pencil and smiled. “When I see the perfect girl sitting across from me, I’m not about to just let a couple thousand suitors swipe her from me.”

“Like Penelope,” I said, without thinking. He wasn’t going to get a reference to The Odyssey. It wasn’t exactly Tech reading.

“Do you think I’m the one who can pull the bow back?” He made a muscle out of his bicep.

I laughed and salivated over his bicep and the fact that he knew The Odyssey. “I love that book.”

“Me too.”

And once again, I found myself taking a good hard look at a very attractive guy and feeling the prick of pins and needles all over my body.

Focus, I told myself. I was here to learn, not to drool over yet another guy. As if Saxon didn’t make things complicated enough, I now had Jake to contend with. Jake and I drew and erased and looked at each other now and then in friendly silence until the bell rang. I didn’t have Jake in my next two classes, which were drafting and still-life drawing, but the last class of the day was a project block and there he was, leaned back at a computer desk, his eyes following me when I came in.

It wasn’t even like I was really thinking about it. I just followed my feet and wound up sitting next to him.

“Hey.” He radiated happiness. “How were the other two classes?”

“Good.” I basked in his glow. “So do you do Share Time or do you stay at Tech all day?”

“I’m a full day Techie.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “My grades were pretty crappy in middle school.”

“Really?” If someone asked what the first word I thought of when I thought of Jake was, I would say…well, hot. And sweet. But focused and hardworking would make the top five, no doubt.

“Yeah. I have dyslexia.” Jake moved his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed self-consciously. “I know a lot of people say that they have it, but it’s pretty rare.”

“Didn’t you get help for it?”

“Oh yeah. My teachers were really good. But it’s just a huge struggle for me to read. I kind of hate it.” He bumped the toe of his boot on the table leg absently.

“But The Odyssey?” I asked, confused.

He smiled. It was crooked. I loved it. “Some books on tape are really good. That one was.”

“That’s the same as reading,” I protested.

He looked at me and his crooked smile stretched out over his whole face. “Yeah, okay. Like drafting is the same as carpentry. I’m a dumbass, Brenna, whether you want to admit it or not.”

It took a minute for it to sink in that he was serious. “A dumbass doesn’t speak the way you do. I can tell just from talking to you that you’re smart.”

He blushed a little and we smiled shyly, then went back to work. I felt warm from the inside out every time I looked his way. When the bell rang, Jake followed me down the long hall and finally put a hand on my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” he asked. “The parking lot is over here.”

“I rode my bike in.”

He didn’t bat an eyelash. “Cool. Where do you live?”

“Augusta. I live on Dickerson. Off of Plains Road.”

“Oh. I live in the Lake.”

“The Lake” was Lake Neapolin, the butt of most of Sussex County’s jokes. It was rumored to be the dirtiest lake in the county, and no one ever swam there. Houses around the lake were typically dilapidated. Back in the 50’s they had been cute little summer homes, but in the 80’s people bought them up to live in permanently. So they were kind of summery and cute, but also prone to being kind of run-down and neglected.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I gave him a friendly wave. Jake smiled his crooked smile and I felt my heart thud faster in my chest.

I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face.

Chapter 2

I remembered to call my mom before I biked home, and thought about stopping at Frankford to talk to Coach Dunn, but I changed my mind at the last minute. I wanted to ride as fast as possible because I knew Mom was timing me down to the second. If I took too long, she would make me get on the bus tomorrow. By the time I rode into the driveway, she was peering out the kitchen window.

Our kitchen was awesomely designed. It was open, with the kitchen and dining room connected, and the entire front wall had nice big windows so you could see our wide front yard and the thick tree line that bordered the edge of our property. Our house was on a tiny, quiet back road. Only half of our road was even paved; half of it was still dirt and loose gravel. It always cracked people up that we still lived on a dirt road, but I liked it that way. It meant that not many people chose to use our road, and that was fine by me. I loved living in a cozy, tucked-away place.

I came in through the garage, kicking off my Chucks at the door.

“Hey Mom!” I pretended that I was surprised to see her standing there. “Oh, were you waiting for me?”

She didn’t say a word, just came over and grabbed my face and pinched my ears.

“Ow!” I squeaked. “Mom, what are you doing?”

“You’re frozen.” She shook her head. “You’re going to get frostbite. This isn’t going to work, Brenna. I can’t believe it’s this damn cold and we’re only in September. Winter is going to be miserable this year.”

“I just need to wear a hat. Mom, I like riding my bike. You should be happy. At least I’m not some obese lazy teenager. Imagine if I weighed four hundred pounds and you had to home school me because I couldn’t fit through doorways at school.” I grabbed an apple from a bowl on the table and crunched down on it. “You’d be sad,” I said around the bite.

“I’ll be sad when you’re hit by a car or your ears turn black and fall off from frostbite. Do you want a sandwich?”

Mom wasn’t big into cooking, and since we’d moved back to the States, she’d been even worse. In Denmark, I’d been around all day to help with cooking and cleaning, but now it all fell to her. It wasn’t that my mom was lazy or anything like that. She just got bored doing things all by herself.

“Yeah. I’ll make them. You go relax,” I offered.

“That’s okay, baby. I’ve been relaxing all day. Thorsten switched schedules with another guy today, so he ran some errands and I had time to myself. He‘s got to go back in tomorrow, though.”

Thorsten worked on the show Saturday Night Live on NBC, so he had to commute to New York City and stay overnight. I only ever saw him in the morning most of the time, and sometimes on Sunday. I had been really worried about living with him for a whole year in Denmark, but he’s a laid back guy, and we got along really well.

“I had a good day. Some of the girls from elementary school saw me and they were nice. Do you remember Meg and Kelsie?”

“The girl who was Annie in your school play?” she asked, and I nodded. “And of course I know Kelsie. It’s too bad she has such a low hairline. She could be very pretty.”

I rolled my eyes, but she didn’t see me. “My classes seem pretty good. I’m reading Lord of the Flies now.”

Mom groaned. “Didn’t you already read that one?”

“Yeah. It’s not so bad. It’s always cool to see what a new teacher says about things. And I ran cross country today. Apparently I beat some unofficial school record for most laps in a period.”

“Wow.” Mom raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were such a fast runner.”

“I’m not.” I examined my apple quizzically. “I think I have endurance. I mean, I wasn’t sprinting. Coach Dunn wants me to try out for the cross country team.”

“That might be fun.” Mom looked at me from the corner of her eye to see if I would agree.

I took everything out for sandwiches and was setting it all on the counter. I took a plate, put one plate in front of Mom, and we started to make our sandwiches, picking through tomato and lettuce and all of the meats.

“It might be.” I shrugged. “Doesn’t it seem like they always want you to live at the field or track or whatever?”

“I guess they think practice is important.” She shook a finger at me. “You don’t have to, Bren. You need to develop your ability to say no.”

This was another of my mom’s favorite lecture topics. She was always reminding me that it was my right to say no whenever I didn’t want something. Not in a corny ‘say no to drugs’ way, or even ‘say no to sex,’ just no in general. Like ‘no’ when someone offers you food you don’t want or ‘no’ when your friends want you to go get your nose pierced with them, or ‘no’ to a teacher who asks you to be her assistant if you don’t want to be. Saying no was actually a pretty hard trait to get a good hold on, especially with someone like Coach Dunn willing you to say yes.

“So.” Mom took a bite out of her turkey and Swiss with extra tomato. “Any boys hanging around?”

I shrugged, praying that my cheeks didn’t get red. “I guess. You know, I’m the new girl, so there’s always that.”

“Just remember, it’s better to date. Don’t get yourself hooked up with one person.”

Mom was madly in love with her high school sweetheart, who got her pregnant and then acted like a jerk. Mom severed contact with him, gave me her last name, and didn’t even acknowledge him on my birth certificate. She raised me alone until she met Thorsten, and I think she stuck with him mostly because on their first date, when she told him about me, he asked her to bring me on the second date.

He took us to a great pizza place and then we saw a kid’s movie at the drive-in. I sat tucked between the two of them like I was their daughter already. Mom had stars in her eyes from that day on. Thorsten was in, and he knew it, but I know that’s not why he did it. He just thought families were nice and important and he, my mom, and I made a good instant one.

“I’m not even interested, Mom. School is going to be crazy enough without it. But I think Kelsie and I might start hanging out again.”

“Good girl,” Mom smiled. “You always had a good head on your shoulders.”

I helped her clean up the kitchen and then went to my very purple room to think for a while. I thought about Saxon’s incredible eyes and his brilliance and the way he could match every joke I made. I thought about Jake and how humble and cute and sweet he was. It was a little embarrassing that I couldn’t think a little more about my classes and schedule, but how could they hold a candle?

I got out my binders and put everything in order. I hole-punched my worksheets and put those little color-coded tabs on my folder partitions. In short, I reveled in my dorky love of organizing my school supplies. I did my homework pretty quickly and was in the process of taking notes on Lord of the Flies when I heard a light knock at the door. I expected Mom, but it was Thorsten, looking uncomfortable. He didn’t really hang out in my room much, so it was always a little weird when he appeared out of nowhere.


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю